


Open Book

by Anonymous



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior and Language, F/M, Season/Series 07, go somewhere else for that, i like gary he deserves luv, i might add more chapters if theres enough response, maniacal laughter, this is a romance between two unrepentant nerds and their love for cheesy media, warning im not writing porn thats not my style
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "I can't tonight, though." Gary flips the waffle iron over.Sheila gets a new mug and pours herself some more coffee from the pot. "New episode of Game of Thrones or something?""No, but I wish," Gary says. "It's just that I've got a date."The Monarch chokes on a bite of waffle. Sheila thumps him on the back, helping him cough it up."WHAT?"
Relationships: Dr. Girlfriend/The Monarch, Henchman 21/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39
Collections: Anon Works, Fanfic Anonymous, anonymous





	Open Book

**Author's Note:**

> please doc and jason please give me more stuff to watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Jessica and Duncan Idaho meet in a Walmart.

Gary makes breakfast. 

He likes the routine. Wake up, make coffee for Monarch and Sheila. They're busy people- Sheila's got her new career, Monarch's going nuts getting his rank up- and food gets pushed to the back of their minds. And everyone likes breakfast. 

"You're a doll," Sheila tells him as she pours herself some coffee. She's still in her nightgown and has a vivid love bite peeking out from under her collar. "I don't know what we'd do without you."

"Crash and burn, probably. But nah, it's nothing." He opens the oven to take one of the still-warm waffles out for her, and since Monarch's gonna want the extra crispy one, he takes one out for him, too.

"21, make mine extra crispy!" Monarch shouts from the stairs. "Are they blueberry?"

"What do you take me for? Of course they're blueberry!"

The Monarch flops into his chair, making grabby hands at his wife's coffee. With a sigh, she lets him have it, then slides his requested crispy waffle over in front of him. The Monarch drowns it in syrup and shakes out a sugar packet to put in the coffee. With a mouth full of waffle, Monarch says, "we need to work on the recruitment pamphlet for the new henchmen tonight, the old ones are gone and the PDF was saved on the Cocoon's network. And these need to not suck!"

"Hey, those pamphlets were awesome! I made those!"

"They were _lame."_

Gary humphs. "Fine."

"And call Monolo, one of the sconces upstairs, um. Broke. Suddenly. On its own."

Gary knew that tone meant ' _my wife and I had weird kinky sex and she doesn't want me to talk about it in front of you.'_ Which Gary was completely fine with.

"I can't tonight, though." Gary flips the waffle iron over.

Sheila gets a new mug and pours herself some more coffee from the pot. "New episode of Game of Thrones or something?"

"No, but I wish," Gary says. "It's just that I've got a date."

Monarch chokes on a bite of waffle. Sheila thumps him on the back, helping him cough it up.

"WHAT?"

"A date! With a woman!" Gary grabs the milk from the fridge and a short drinking glass and plants them in front of Monarch. "What, I can't go on dates?"

"Of course you can, it's just... kind of a surprise," Sheila carefully says. "When did you even have time to meet someone?"

"That's not the point, what's her _name?"_ Monarch cuts his waffle into smaller pieces. "Oh, is it a 'my girlfriend lives in Canada and we talk over the internet' thing?"

Gary sighs. "She is a _real woman,_ Monarch. Who lives in _Canandaigua_ , not _Canada._ Her name's Jessica."

"I'm sure she's a lovely woman. Where'd you meet her? And where's the date?" Sheila starts on her own waffle. 

"Well..."

* * *

"...Shit."

There are broken eggs all over the grocery store floor. Jessica has the brief, fleeting thought that it's a metaphor for where her life is at the moment. Cold and broken on the concrete floor of a Walmart. Her basket has a depressing spread of items- one banana, a huge tub of shea butter, a gallon of fruit punch, the newest issue of Super Glamour magazine- and makes her sad to even glance at, let alone purchase. Who buys one banana?

 _Me, apparently_ , Jessie thinks. She stares at the egg whites slowly spreading across the floor.

"Do you need some help, lady?" Jessie hears, a wavery voice cutting through the low chatter around the store.

 _So much,_ she thinks. She turns around and has to look up. "Yeah, actually, do you know where the custodians a-"

As she turned on her heel to look around, her foot slips in the whites, causing her to fall and windmill her arms around for stability. The fruit punch falls and busts, sending the bright red liquid everywhere. She falls forwards into him, causing him to stumble slightly.

He has big hands, she notes, when he helps stabilize her. And a cushy chest. The guy's white, built like a brick shithouse, and about a foot taller than her. The top of her head only just reaches his shoulders. He's got some serious 5-o-clock shadow, and the ten pack of socks he was holding were now on the floor out of the splash zone.

"Whoa there, lady, careful!"

"I am _so sorry,_ oh my God. I promise I wasn't trying to do anything, I-"

"-no, you're fine!"

He was kinda cute, actually.

She realizes she was still holding on to his hoodie and he was gripping her upper arms as well. He seems to realize too, stepping back and making sure she won't fall again. 

"Thanks, hun. I'd have brained myself." She smiles crookedly at him. She has a small gap between her two front teeth. "My hero."

He smiles a little at that, like she said something he found ironic. "Heh, hardly."

She looks down at her gunky shoes and sighs. They were all icky now. "This'll never come out. And I just got them, too."

"Try those tide to-go sticks, they're awesome with blo- red stains! Regular red stains. Yeah."

Jessie looks back up. Cute White Guy looks a little flustered. "Yeah, that's a great idea. There's gotta be some around here or at work. Thanks a million, Mister Handsome. I gotta find the custodian, now. Nice to meet ya, big guy!" Jessie carefully steps around the mess, grabbing the shea butter and wiping the bottoms of her shoes off on her jeans.

"Gary! It's, uh. Gary."

Jessie pauses, turning to look at him. "Gary, huh? Don't hear that one much any more. Nice to meet you, Gary. Name's Jessica, but people call me Jessie."

"Oh, hey! I called you lady! Lady Jessica, huh? Oh. You don't-"

Jessie laughs loudly at that, calling attention of some other shoppers. "Does that make you Duncan Idaho?"

Gary turns red and rubs the back of his neck. "I'm more of a Thufir Hawat, myself."

"Well," Jessie says thoughtfully, "you're not old enough to be him. You're too young and handsome. I'll stick with Duncan for now 'til you've gotten the hang of Thufir. Care to join me on my journey through the Arrakis better known as Walmart to find my tide crysknife?"

Gary smiles like an idiot and scoops up his ten pack of socks, almost tripping over his own feet as he follows. "Lead the way, my lady! But doesn't that mean you have to kill me when I see it?" 

She snickers. "Nah, you're all right. Duncan lives another day."

"Fucking nerds," a guy on the other side of the aisle says.

"There's baron Harkonnen," Gary whispers to her behind his hand.

Another laugh from Jessie.

"So, what do you do, Duncan?" Jessie asks. "Other than manage arms."

"Oh, I work for The Mighty Monarch. I'm his, uh, henchman."

"Oh, man! I used to work for Crime-o-Dile when he was alive!" Jessie bumped him with her hip. "Seems we have some stuff in common. I know about the Monarch, too, isn't he the one who got his wedding crashed by Phantom Limb and the old Sovereign? I'm a little rusty on details, I've been out of the hench game a while."

"Holy shit, you worked for Crime-o-Dile? That's so badass! And yeah, that sucked. I was there, actually. I'm his only henchman at the moment but we're working on it."

"It paid the bills, for sure, but if anyone's badass it's you for not dying a horrible fiery death. All I did was press a few buttons and say 'Captain Sunshine approaches, sir'."

"Ugh, Captain Sunshine, what a tool."

"Man, I _know_ right? I knew Herman, the henchman Crime-o-Dile gave his life for. Nicest man you'd ever met! Captain Shitstain comes along and BAM, goodbye boss and goodbye job. All Herman gets is a cheap edible arrangement from the protag and enough trauma to last a lifetime."

Gary has a broad smile on his face. It makes him look pretty charming. "What do you do now? Another henching job?"

Jessie shakes her head. They're at the detergent section and she grabs a to-go stick. "Nah, Crime-o-Dile was one in a million. Never felt like I was just a henchman, you know? He treated us all like people instead of cannon fodder. Pay was pretty good, too, better than most villains offer. Before he died he wrote me a reference, and I got the job to do technical copy for levels one through five guild equipment."

"I've read some of that! You do a good job, Monarch and I got the lightning rifle for a Big Villain mentor program thing we did."

"Oooh, that was a fun one. Took me a week to get it perfect." The cashier takes Jessie's thirty bucks, throwing the shea butter and tide stick into a plastic bag. Jessie swipes Gary's pack of socks, too- her "it's the least I can do for falling all over you" makes him turn red and back off. She gets a five back and stuffs it into her bill fold. 

They step outside, and Jessie hands him his socks. "It's been really good talking to ya, mister Gary Idaho. I hope we can do it again."

"CanIpleasegetyournumber?" he fires out, and blushes furiously when he realizes she might not have heard him right.

She knows exactly what he said. She's heard it a hundred times. Unlike those times, though, she thinks about it seriously. He seems... really nice, actually.

"Sure. I can do that." She reaches into her jacket pocket for a pen, but only finds a sharpie. "Gimme your arm for a moment."

"My...arm?" he asks, even as he's moving to do so. She turns it over, her soft hands gently maneuvering it. Her teeth pull the cap off the sharpie and she writes her number on his wrist. She signs it 'Lady Jessica'.

"Alright, Duncan, see you around. Call me. If you like Dune, maybe we can see if you like Trek and Star Wars too."

He looks lovestruck. "I _totally_ am, I'm a huge fa-"

"-tomorrow. I've got a meeting tonight with some white wine and a block of bree."

"The meal of champions."

"You got it, hun." She smiles and pats his bicep. "Call me."

She walks away, disappearing into the parking lot quickly.

She hopes he calls. 

When she reaches her apartment, a text bubble pops up; it says ' _Hey, it's Gary (Duncan)! :-] I'll call you tomorrow!'_

Jessie saves his number under 'Duncan Idaho'. She _really_ hopes he calls.

* * *

"Oh my God, you _nerd!"_

"Hey!" Gary turns off the iron and grabs his own waffle. 

"Well you _are!"_

Sheila places a hand on Monarch's shoulder. She has That Look on her face. "Sweetie."

Monarch huffs. "Well, she seems fine so far. Crime-o-Dile had good taste in henchmen. Is she hot?" he asks through a mouthful of waffle.

"I- _dude!_ Not cool." Gary pokes at his waffle, waiting for the butter to melt. "She's nice. And yes, pretty. But that's not important! We talked on the phone yesterday and we agreed on-"

* * *

"-a midnight showing of Rocky Horror is happening tomorrow, how's that sound?"

They've been talking for about a week, texting back and forth and calling in their down time. Conversation flows well and they talk about anything and everything.

"That would be awesome," Gary gushes, "I can bring some cards and gloves and flashlights, if you bring some-"

"-Confetti and newspaper and toast? Gotcha. I'll send the location details."

Gary thinks he's in love.

"Oh, by the way, I need a contact photo for you, can you send one? When my phone rings for some reason it doesn't show the name and the picture's the only thing that shows."

His heart stutters for a moment. "T-totally, just one second; don't make fun of me when you see it, though! Not everyone can look good at nine in the afternoon."

"Oh, hush, you'll look fine! But if it makes you feel better, I solemnly swear I will not make fun of you."

He pulls off his boots and with his now free hands moves the phone from between his shoulder and ear. "Alright, I'll make sure to. I gotta take a shower; Lemon Slime thought it would be funny to barf ooze on my costume. I just got it dry cleaned, too!" 

"Yeesh, that sounds unpleasant. Have fun de-gunkifying yourself. Don't forget to send me that picture when you're done and clothed! See you there, Duncan." She hangs up.

He stares at an empty room. He's got it _bad._

A _bzzt-bzzt_ comes from his vibrating phone. It's a text from Jessie.

_'Figured I'd give one in return! [image0.jpeg attached]'_

It's a picture of her in front of a small vanity mirror, her phone peeking from the bottom of the frame. It has a little crocodile sticker on the case, and her nails are painted gold.

She has her hair down, black strands freely curling around her ears. It looks like she had been massaging shea butter into it before taking the picture. Her wide smile is spread across her face, and warm brown skin dotted with little freckles is made to look even warmer from her vanity's lightbulbs. She's wearing a floral print dress with occasional bees dotted on it.

Gary feels so, so lucky. And needs to take that shower _pronto._

* * *

Sheila forces him to show the picture and smiles when she sees it on his phone. "She is _so cute!_ And I think that's a great first date."

"Score, 21! Up top, my main hench-man!" Monarch puts his hand in the air for a high five.

Gary shakes his head. "I like her, I'm not just going because she's pretty." He hesitates, but high fives Monarch anyway. It was right there. Can't leave a bro hanging.

"You still have to call Monolo. The man's busier than a Trader Joe's on Black Friday."

Sheila pats Gary on the shoulder. "I'm happy for you. It's good you're..."

 _'Moving on'_ is the unspoken implication.

"...getting out there."

"About time, too," Monarch interjects. "I was beginning to think you would die alone."

Ah. There he is. 

"Gee, thanks."

"What? Was I wrong? You've practically been a monk for years." Monarch finishes off his breakfast and dumps his dish into the sink.

"Can we not talk about that? Please? I don't want this to be weird."

Monarch waves him off absently. Sheila pats his shoulder again and walks to the stairs with her husband, going to get dressed for the day. "Thanks for breakfast, Gary. It's great as always. And I'm really happy for you. I hope your date goes well."

Watching her walk up the stairs with her husband feels like the last goodbye to what should have been let go a long while ago.

He feels a weight lift off his shoulders. Gary hopes the date goes well, too. 

He feels ready. 


End file.
